


Storage Closets and Butch DeLoria

by sniper_wolf



Category: Fallout 3
Genre: Angry Sex, Bullying, Butch is a dick, Gay Sex, M/M, Minor Violence, Nerdy Lone Wanderer, POV First Person, Trapped In A Closet, an attractive dick, lots of anger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2018-01-11 11:47:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1172703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sniper_wolf/pseuds/sniper_wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A page from the memoirs of the Lone Wanderer - Shay Winters - regarding his impressions of Butch DeLoria while still living in Vault 101. Contains angry gay sex, lots of swearing, and Butch being his usual asshole self. Enjoy~</p>
            </blockquote>





	Storage Closets and Butch DeLoria

**Author's Note:**

> So this story started off as a challenge with my best friend while we were playing Fallout 3. She mentioned that Butch is one of the only attractive characters in the game and that she thought the Lone Wanderer and him should have angry sex in a storage closet. This fic ensued. If you like it, please leave kudos and/or a comment! I also love constructive criticism! =)

I was born in Vault 101 to James and Catherine Winters. Or so I was led to believe. But I’ll get to that later. According to my father, my mother died in childbirth. While I know some fathers would blame their children and abuse them, James lavished affection on me. I was his only family left, the only thing he could truly care for. Still, I could occasionally see the pain in his eyes when he looked at me. I look a lot like my mother; this I gathered from the various pictures around our vault room and, of course, the way he looked at me. I was a constant reminder of his greatest loss that brought him his greatest joy. 

My name is Shay Winters. Some know me as the Lone Wanderer. Some call me the Vault Dweller, although I haven’t set foot in that Vault for several years. Even if I wanted to, I don’t think I’d come out alive. I escaped, see, when I was eighteen. No one escapes the Vault. We are born in the Vault, and we die in the Vault. But my father and I, we escaped. Not together – no, he left before I did, without so much as a word alluding to his plans. He left a note (that I found much too late) saying not to follow him. To stay in the Vault. Like I had a choice. The minute my father left the Overseer went batshit. He killed Jonas, my father’s best friend, and sent a security team to kill me. If it hadn’t been for Amata I wouldn’t be here telling this story now. 

But I digress. Before the whole place went to hell life in the Vault was pleasant. I didn’t think that way when I still lived there, of course, for I had nothing else to compare it too. Living in the Wasteland gives a man perspective. In the Vault there was always fresh food and water without the fear of radiation poisoning. No mutants could attack us. We always had a safe place to sleep. We even went to school. Compared to life in the Wastes, the Vault was paradise. 

However, with every paradise comes a kink in the system. One of those kinks was Butch DeLoria. I hated him more than anything. I’m usually known for my level-headedness. I’m slow to anger, or at least I was, and I could care less what others thought of me. But Butch DeLoria…he had been my bully since I was ten years old. He was relentless, until I reached the age of fourteen, and then he just ignored me. Still, whenever we came into contact, whenever we spoke, anger surged through the both of us like fire. Anyone else could push me around all they wanted and I wouldn’t respond (well, perhaps they would wake in the middle of the night missing something precious of theirs, but I couldn’t let everyone get away with it), but I lost my temper every time with Butch. Around the time I turned sixteen something changed. Oh, I still hated every sinew in his body, but I began to find him _attractive_. I did my best to hide my ridiculous embarrassment when he would touch me, slam me against the wall and threaten to stick a knife in my gut. I should have been angry, or scared, but all I could think of was how _close_ he was and how incredibly _strong_ he was. He would kill me in a fist fight. Compared to his muscles I was nothing but bones. My advantage was my agility and my incredible aim. I began shooting when I was ten with a BB gun my father got me. My accuracy to this day is probably my best trait. But back to Butch.

He was leader of a gang called the Tunnel Snakes. To me, a gang down in the vault seemed pointless. Everyone knew everyone else, and there weren’t many kids our age anyway. But Butch insisted on being an asshole. And so did the rest of the Tunnel Snakes. In fact, they thought it would be funny to lock me storage closet and listen to me yell for help. Hilarious. What they didn’t count on was accidently jamming the door closed when Butch was in there with me.

 

_“Aw, does that hurt? You gonna run to your daddy and cry?”_

_Butch had me backed into a storage closet in one of the lesser used hallways. It was dusty and nothing of real use was left on the shelves. He kept a painful grip on my wrist, the other hand flat against my chest holding me against the wall._

_“Cut it out, Butch,” I growled, doing my best to glare at him in the weak light. Behind us, the other Tunnel Snakes laughed._

_“Whatcha gonna do about it, punk?” His face twisted into a detestable smirk. “You couldn’t hurt me if you tried, Winters.”_

_I growled deep in my throat, a noise meant to be intimidating but only caused Butch and the Tunnel Snakes to laugh._

_“Look at him squirm,” Wally sneered from the hallway. “Faggot.”_

_At the comment a sudden rage overtook me and I thrust against Butch, actually managing to break free of his grasp. I shouted something incomprehensible at Wally, and the sudden motion and noise caused him to stagger back in surprise and, quite improbably, ram his elbow into the control panel to the door. The door dropped down instantly with a loud “thud” noise and darkness overwhelmed my senses._

_“Fuck!” I heard Butch yell. “Wally you shithead! Open the fucking door!”_

_There was the sound of hurried shuffling in the hallway, and after a moment, someone other than Wally shouted back._

_“It’s jammed! Wally’s elbow broke it or something!”_

_“Well fucking fix it!” Butch yelled back._

_“We’re trying!”_

_Unable to remain silent, I shoved Butch in the shoulder. I could just barely make out his outline in the dark room. “Way to go, asshole,” I snarled. “Not only do I get to be trapped in here, but I have to be trapped in here with_ you.”

 _“Shut it, faggot,” Butch responded, hitting me on the side of my head with his palm._

_My eyes adjusted to the dark quickly, and I could now see Butch clearly. Letting my rage surface, I lunged at him, knocking him on the ground (not because of my strength, mind you, but because I took him by surprise). I managed to land two punches on his face before he regained his senses and began to pummel me. He punched my jaw and my stomach twice, then kicked my shins. Gasping and falling back to the floor, I rolled out of the way as he was about to ram his elbow into my gut. Losing his balance, Butch fell to the floor, and I leapt on top of him, using all my strength to pin him down. At that moment the lights of the closet flickered on. Butch lay beneath me, breathing hard with a bruise beginning to form along his jaw. He glared up at me with such surprise at my sudden bout of strength, and I_ blushed. _My mind suddenly registered how intimate our position was and how fucking_ attractive _he was. My body reacted against my will. Before I could really register what was going on, Butch forced himself up, grabbed my arms, and forced me down so that he was now kneeling on top of me. His knee was placed between my legs, up against my crotch. I felt my face heat up._

 _Butch’s eyes widened. His eyes darted to the placement of his knee. “Are you fucking_ hard _right now?”_

_Unable to meet his eyes, my face only proceeded to turn a brighter shade of red. I didn’t respond. It had been a rhetorical question anyway. For a moment neither of us moved or spoke. Then Butch’s lips crashed into mine. A kiss was the last thing I was expecting, and I turned my head away immediately, thrashing under his grip. He only held me firmer. Giving up I finally met his gaze, glaring at him with all the ferocity I could manage._

_“What the fuck are you doing?” I hissed._

_Butch looked just as confused as me. His eyes darted back and forth over my body. His lip quivered, his fingers twitched; unsure._

_“Shut up,” he mumbled eventually, averting his gaze for a moment. Then he kissed me again. Hard. Harder than a kiss was supposed to be, no doubt. He bit my bottom lip, drawing blood. I didn’t give him the pleasure of returning the gesture, and his lips moved even harder, his frustration showing. Soon it was all I could do to not moan in pain. Begrudgingly, I opened my mouth for him, afraid he would do it forcefully if I didn’t comply. Immediately his tongue was in my mouth, exploring it, intertwining with my own muscle._

_It felt_ good.

_In a weird, sick sort of way, I liked it. I let myself kiss him back. He pulled back instantly, eyes scanning my face. They were not filled with confusion anymore, only anger and determination. And I realized he fully intended to fuck me right then and there whether I consented or not. With a quick motion he stood up and pulled me with him, only to slam me against the wall. Snarling, I grabbed his face with both of my hands and kissed his lips, then his bruised jaw, then his neck. A quiet (very quiet) moan escaped his lips. He pulled my shirt off, quickly doing away with his own, and began to pinch my nipples with such force that it was all I could do to stay silent._

_Impatient, I fumbled with the belt around his jeans before finally managing to unbutton his pants and shove them down to around his knees, so that I could see his whole length, which was just as hard as mine. He pushed into my body then, grabbing my hair and forcefully turning me around. His member pressed uncomfortably into my lower back._

_“You gonna fuck me, Butch?” I asked in my best scathing voice. “Who’s the faggot now?”_

_“Shut up,” he repeated, pulling my pants down._

_I could tell from his hesitation that he had never fucked a guy before. Hell, I didn’t know if he had even fucked a girl. I couldn’t think of why any girl near our age in the Vault would want to have sex with him – then again, knowing Butch, it didn’t have to be consensual. The thought should have angered me more than it did, but the hand now around my cock scattered all thoughts. I could feel Butch_ grin _in my ear as I inhaled sharply. I shuddered involuntarily as he ran his thumb slowly over the tip._

 _“This is quite a change of events,” I gasped, refusing to let him enjoy this so thoroughly._

_Immediately I felt a sharp sting on my ass. He had fucking_ spanked _me._

 _“Watch your tongue, Winters,” Butch snarled. I couldn’t see his face, but I could hear the excitement in his voice and the hand wrapped around my length and now his ever-curious fingers prodding at my ass. He slipped a single finger into me rather easily. I bit my tongue hard to keep quiet, swallowing a moan. A second finger. I could picture perfectly the way Butch’s eyes widened. “I never knew a guy could get so_ wet _.”_

 _“Stop teasing me,” I managed to say. “Just fuck me already.” I hated myself for the begging whine that escaped my lips as I spoke. Butch paused for a moment, as if contemplating stopping just to infuriate me, but the pre-cum I felt against my back told me he wanted this just as much as I did._

_His cock nudged against my opening, and before I could comprehend anything else, he ruthlessly pushed his entire length into me. I couldn’t help but scream rather loudly, and Butch shoved the hand that had previously been stroking me in my mouth. I bit down on it. He didn’t seem to mind._

_He began moving at a relentless pace, not giving me any time to adjust, and my erection withered, the pain completely overwhelming the pleasure. Butch bit down hard on my shoulder to keep himself from calling out. One of his hands was still in my mouth while the other raked my chest. I was on the verge of struggling against him to end the burning pain when he hit my prostrate. It was the most intense, pleasurable feeling I had ever experienced._

_“Fuck!” I yelled, throwing my head back and closing my eyes. Encouraged, Butch grasped my cock and began stroking me back to life. Before long he had me begging for him: harder, faster, deeper._

_“Say my name,” Butch commanded, entwining his fingers into my hair._

_“Butch,” I moaned in compliance, relishing the feel of him all around me. Within seconds my muscles tensed and my fingernails scraped the wall. “Butch!” I yelled again, coming over his hand and my own chest._

_Butch didn’t last much longer. With a muffled “Fuck!” he released his seed inside of me. He finally stopped his relentless thrusts and stood, pressed against me, panting. I was shaking from the encounter._

_“Jesus,” Butch muttered, pulling out of me as I turned to look at him. “What…what did we…”_

_“I seem to recall you fucking me against the wall,” I sneered, still managing to glare._

_I expected Butch to retaliate with a snarky remark, but he only stared at me. And not even in anger. It seemed as if he was looking at me in a new light – like he had never actually seen me before. I shivered from the strangeness of the gaze._

_“You liked it,” he finally replied._

_“So did you.”_

_We stared at each other for another minute._

_“We should get dressed,” he said, glancing at the door. “Who knows when they’ll open it.”_

 

Thus began my strange relationship with Butch DeLoria. Bet you weren’t expecting that, huh? Then you’ll also be surprised to find out that we continued having sex. After the first time it seemed to me that we fucked at least once a day. Sometimes more. But after a couple of weeks it died down. Oh, we never stopped, we both loved it too much for that, but we realized we had to be more careful. Couldn’t have anyone finding out, especially the Tunnel Snakes. So we contented ourselves with midnight escapes to maintenance rooms, classrooms, and our own rooms when it was quiet… Once we did it on our teacher’s desk. Once we did it on my _father’s_ desk. But we still hated each other. There was never any tenderness or love in our sessions. That changed eventually, of course, but not until much later, when the Vault had fallen to ruin and I had escaped to the Wasteland above.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm wondering if I should do more with these two? I have an idea of their relationship when they meet each other in the Wasteland again and start traveling together... But I'm not sure if I actually want to write more. If you would like to see more, please tell me!


End file.
